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Enoreth
Come close young one, let me tell you the story of a world. The story of our world, and our people. Caracal was a peninsula of the Eastern continent. The sun shone most of the year, and the climate was warm. The people were peaceful. They were artists and farmers. There was no hunger and no war. One might even have called it idyllic. The elves who lived the treasured it, and the noble houses of the rest of the land found peace and respite there, traveling to get away from the hustle and bustle of politics and court. In the stories that the bards tell, this is where the dragonsinger would come in and warn the people of the great evil that was foretold to descend upon them. We had no such song. No warning on the wings of the phoenix, no prophecy to save us. As my grandmother told to me, from her grandmother to her, the noblest of houses were at the Elven court with their great king. The town of Caracal slept, gone was the hustle and bustle of the traveling season. The cataclysm didn't come with a roar like every one thought. It came in the spring time, as the earth was just coming to life. It came with a whisper, at first only a strange fog in the night while children and adults alike were sleeping. A vibration, a murmur, a groan. As the sun rose, the earth rend itself in two. Water from the seas flooded in. In an enormous flash the peninsula sheared from the rest of the continent. And that is where the story of Caracal ended for the rest of the elves. They built their great golden ships and fled west, fled to the land of plenty, a land free of the great corruption. The nobles mourned the loss of the place that had been, but they knew that there was no hope that the shallow land had survived the utter chaos and destruction that had reigned in the early days. But Caracal lived on. The rending of the land was Correllion saving us from the corruption. His grace spit us out and tore us from the continent, protecting us from the evil as it descended. But where were our brothers and sisters to save us? They had fled. And in so doing, we are no longer elven like them. We are our own. Gone are the noble houses, gone are politics. Like a blade of tempered steel, we survived our own fire to become hardened. We have battled for thousands of years against the greatest of evils. Time is our keeper, as we keep time until we can reunite with those who fled, until we can destroy Lolth and retake our land. We are the Enoreth now. '' ---- '''History and Geography' The Enoreth, as they call themselves, are a tribe of wild elves from the continent of Sindarah. They is very little difference between the Wild Elves of Sindarah than the elves of the rest of the world. They have a sturdier constitution. Their lineage splits from the royal line of elves approximately 2,000 years ago when the rest of the elves fled the continent of Sindarah to take up residence on Maeron. When this occurred, the Enoreth were forgotten. This is mainly attributed to a mistake in paper work. However, the Enoreth have never forgiven their brethren for leaving them behind to the mercies of the corruption. They survived in limited numbers and became much more savage and war like than other elves. Their main city, Caracal, survived the cataclysm. The peninsula, named after the same city did not survive unscathed. Once a subtropical region of great natural wealth and beauty, the cataclysm had a negative impact that resulted in much of the peninsula turning into arid desert. The Great Desert takes a significant period of time to cross on foot, and most of the habitable parts of the island are toward the coast outside of a handful of oasis within the desert. To the west and south of the island a mountain range, called the Dragon Spine exists where fields of wheat and plenty once grew, well into the horizon. The mountain range is young and treacherous, the land there uplifting while the cataclysm occurred. l The Enoreth do have limited agricultural resources. While the land is poor the sea is rich. In addition to salvaging many resources left to them, early on the elves built huge floating rafts to farm on. Every thing is recycled and reused, and children are put to work as soon as they can be trusted to complete a task. The sun shines for most of the year and the winter is thankfully brief, which means much time is spent gathering and harvesting food enough to sustain the population. Culture The Enoreth take their name after the Elven God Labelas Enoreth. This intentional choice in name is in reference to their take on life. Their time for vengeance is unlimited. One could say that an Enoreth never forgets. In order to maintain their continued survival against the corruption on the main continent, an entire sect of the elves exist for personal protection. Chosen young, the brightest and youngest members of the clan become Pathu. No one is sure where this term derived from, however, the pathu are greatly respected and revered. The train from childhood into adulthood in the ways of combat. A class is ten students, and these students become an expert team. They become miniature families of ten, working together in all tasks to ensure their own personal survival. All in the pathu know how to survive either individually, as a partial group, or as a whole group. Skill sets are varied. The pathu ''typically ends up with a mix of martial and magic users, with everything from mages and witches to fighters and assasins. Frequently each individual has multiple useful skills. Once fully trained the ''pathu ''makes frequent missions to the continent in order to gather intelligence on the Great Enemy and the Corruption. Very rarely is an individual lost do their explicit training that developed over time. If a ''pathu is lost, either individually or an entire group, the entire clan goes into mourning.